


Good Times and Mirror Mirror

by Slaymesoftly



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-09
Updated: 2013-03-09
Packaged: 2017-12-04 17:15:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/713117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slaymesoftly/pseuds/Slaymesoftly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two ficlets written about Spike and Wesley and their adventures while working for Angel Investigations. One was for a Taming the Muse prompt of something like the God's name, I think,  and one was for a nekid_Spike prompt involving Spike, Wes, a convent and a mirror.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good Times and Mirror Mirror

**Good Times**

 

"Tell me again what we're looking for?" Spike stared around at the passing countryside. Even in the dark, he could see the green of the rice paddies on either side of the dusty lane. "And why we're looking for it out here in the middle of nowhere?"

"We're seeking a statue of a god... wearing a shawl and a hat. Red ones, if I recall."

"A statue wearing clothes? You needed my muscle for that?"

"Someone has to carry it. And we _are_ in a foreign country. Angel told me you speak Japanese. That you once killed a Japanese slayer?"

"She was _Chinese!_ And I didn't speak her language either. That's why you brought me? Because the bloody poof is losing his memory in his old age?"

"Well, that and there's a possibility that the statue was taken by a ...*cough*rogueslayer*cough*"

"A what?" Spike glared at Wesley. "I'm not killing a slayer. Get yourself another vampire, Oxford. This one's retired."

"No one wants you to kill her, Spike. We just need to convince her that she's working for the wrong side. The statue should to go back to the village it belongs to."

"A demon village."

"They hired us. That makes them clients. They want their Jizō back and we have been appointed to see that it happens."

"Please tell me I misunderstood what you just said..."

"If you heard anything but the name of a Japanese deity, you have not been paying attention."

"Alright. So, we're to rescue this Jizzy god, that belongs to a village of demons, and he's being guarded by some slayerette. Why? I mean, why is she keeping it?"

"She seems to think – mistakenly so – that the demon village has no right to a statue of a diety whose job it is to protect small children."

"Seems reasonable to me." Spike stuck his hands in his pockets and stopped walking. "Why do we want to help them get it back?"

"Did you not hear the part where they are paying us? These are our clients. We don't ask them 'why', we just do the job and collect the fee."

"None of which actually goes to me," Spike grumbled as he started walking again.

"Unless you have given up stealing Angel's blood from his refrigerator, some of it goes directly into your ungrateful stomach."

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Now what the hell do I do?" Spike snarled, clinging for all he was worth to the extremely angry girl cursing at him in Japanese. The slayer was young and not well-trained, but even so, it had taken him a good fifteen minutes to find a way to immobilize her without actually hurting her badly. Not having been hampered by any such restrictions, the slayer had gouged a piece out of his leg with her stake and blacked one eye with a wild, but powerful punch.

"Just hang on to her while I try to explain...." Wesley was thumbing through a book of common Japanese phrases. "Ummm.... gomennasai?"

The girl just rolled her eyes at him and renewed her struggles to free herself from the vampire that for some reason had not yet bitten her, but was surely going to any second.

"Uh... we come in peace? No, that won't do. We don't want to harm you. We just need to take the statue back to its rightful owners. Wa..." he studied the book again. "Wakarimasuka?"

"Baka," she snapped, trying to free an arm and reach her stake lying just out of reach.

"Did she just call me a name?"

"Think she just called you 'stupid'" Spike said, unable to hide a grin. 

"Right then. Enough of this." Wesley put down the phrase book and pulled out a pistol, pointing it at the girl whose eyes went wide with fear. She froze and quit struggling against Spike, who cautiously let her go and stepped away.

"Stupid bint has William the Bloody at her throat and she's afraid of a starter pistol!" He shook his head in disgust. "I should just bite her on general principle."

"Just grab the statue and let's go."

Spike scooped up the stone statue, grateful that it was only a couple of feet tall, and hoisted it to his shoulder.

"Sayonara, slayer," he said with a cheerful wave. "Better luck next time."

~~~~~~~~~

The villagers who owned the statue were very grateful to have it back, and Spike and Wesley left town with their "doomo arigatoo"s ringing in their ears. Spike waved back and yelled, "dooitashimashite," to the waving demon children.

"I thought you couldn't speak Japanese," Wesley grumbled. "You might have saved us a lot of trouble with that slayer if you had just explained it to her."

Spike just shook his head. "Told you, I don't speak it. Just enough phrases to get by." His gaze turned wistful. "Been a long time since I got to fight a Slayer. Made me miss... I might have to take a couple of weeks off when we get back. Think it's time to let somebody know I'm back...."

 

The End

 

For Nekid_Spike - These were my three things: Wesley, Mirror, Convent … and, of course, Spike. It’s lame, but the best I could come up with. Wesley is not someone I write well or often.

 

**Mirror, Mirror, On The Wall…**

 

“Huh! Would you look at that?”

“At what? And would you please be quiet! This is intended to be a secret mission. That would require that the occupants not know we are here.”

“But it’s a mirror!” Spike pulled the framed glass off the wall and held it up in front of himself. He stared around the room, noting a few other anomalies in what should have been a fairly Spartan setting.

“Yes. I am fully aware of what a mirror is. Although why it would interest someone who cannot see himself in it, I have no idea.”

“What’s a mirror doing in a building full of nuns? Women who, if I remember correctly, aren’t supposed to care how they look?”

“I fail to see why that—oh, shit!”

“Is that Watcher-speak for ‘the vampire noticed before I did that we might be in a spot of trouble’?”

“You know you are incredibly annoying when you are proved correct about something.”

“I’m incredibly annoying even when I’m wrong.” Spike grinned. “It’s a gift.”

“I’m sure it is,” Wesley agreed in a whisper, waving Spike to silence. “It really doesn’t change our mission. We still need to locate the Book of Books and get it back to Angel.”

“Yeah, but now we know that these aren’t real nuns guarding it. We can have a whole lot more fun if we get caught.”

Wesley studied the smiling vampire. “So, had they then been real nuns, you wouldn’t have harmed them?”

“Nope. That was always Angelus’ thing. Dumb Mick that he was –he couldn’t resist debauching a building full of nuns. Me? I prefer my women willing and experienced. That’s what the Church of England does for you, I guess.”

“I doubt the Church of England is responsible for your taste in women – although I am sure there are some grateful Catholic nuns somewhere out there.”

“Well, they aren’t in here – look in this wardrobe.”

Peering over Spike’s shoulder, Wesley could see that the closet held, in addition to the expected black habits, several sequined cocktail dresses and matching shoes with stiletto heels.

“Not what you’d expect to find in a nun’s closet is it, Oxford?”

Spike moved to the small dresser and began rooting through the drawers, pulling out the occasional scrap of lace and admiring it, before dropping it back in the drawer and continuing to look for the book.

“The dresses and shoes – no; the book, however, possibly. We’ve been assuming that the thief hid it somewhere in the convent and left it here, but perhaps…” He knelt down and began carefully searching through the heavily perfumed clothing. “Keep a watch while I look through here. It is possible that all the other members of the convent are legitimate and that we have stumbled onto the very room we need.”

“Thanks to yours truly and his eye for detail…”

Wesley’s voice came from within the deep closet, as he pushed aside very un-nun-like shoes and clothing. He eventually came to an ancient looking leather box, carefully concealed by the long black habits so rarely worn by nuns in this modern age.

“I believe I may have found something,” he whispered.

“Well, let’s get it out, then. I hear footsteps comin’ this way – and they don’t sound very—“

The door flew open with a crash and standing in the entrance was a very angry Mother Superior.

“Who are you? And what are doing in Sister Teresa’s room?”

“My apologies,” Wesley said smoothly, sliding the box behind him and edging out into the room. “A friend of ours has misplaced an important item and we had information that it might be here. It didn’t seem wise to disturb the tranquility of your establishment to retrieve it if we could do so unobtrusively.”

“It seemed wiser to break and enter?” The Mother Superior’s lips twitched with a hint of amusement. She stepped closer to the wardrobe and raised one eyebrow. “Sister Teresa appears to have an interesting selection of civilian clothing…”

“We…uh… that is I…” Wesley realized that the woman had yet to notice the immobile vampire blending in with the stone wall. “I do not believe that your Sister Teresa is what she appears.”

“So it seems…” The formidable old nun pushed Wesley out of the way and peered into the wardrobe. She picked up one of a pair of four-inch stiletto heels in bright red and brushed a sequin off the toe. She turned and gave Wesley a stern glare. “However, Sister Teresa’s possible inappropriate activities outside this convent do not make her a thief or a possessor of stolen property.”

“This does,” Wesley said simply, holding out the box and opening the lid. 

The woman drew back with a hiss as a malevolent stream of smoke emerged and raced around the room. Lying in the box, now visible, was the Book of Books.

“What is this evil thing?” She waved her rosary at the smoke still wafting around the room, in the process spotting Spike. She immediately held her cross out toward him.

“Vampire!”

“Nun!”

She narrowed her eyes, then glanced at Wesley. 

“You brought a vampire into my convent?” Her lowering brow did not bode well for the cowed ex-watcher.

“He…he’s here for a reason,” he stuttered, moving toward the door with the box under his arm and gesturing for Spike to follow.

“Which is?” Completely unfooled by Wesley’s attempt to get closer to the exit, she stepped in front of him, still keeping her crucifix pointed at Spike.

Before he could answer, Wesley was knocked to the floor as the owner of the room burst into it, tearing off her nun’s habit . The demon, no longer making an attempt to resemble poor missing Sister Teresa, reached for the box containing the book. She batted away the Mother Superior’s rosary and cross, snarling, “If those would bother me, do you think I could have stayed here all this time?”

She reached again for the box that Wesley was attempting to shield with his body, picking up the man as though he was a child and baring pointed teeth in his face.

“Do you really want to know what these feel like?” she growled, expecting him to drop the box.

“Bit like mine do, I expect.” Spike brought the mirror down on the demon’s head, allowing Wesley to break free and move the Mother Superior to the open doorway. Spike grappled with the stunned demon, burying his own fangs in its neck. He let go almost immediately and began spitting sickly green blood onto the floor.

“Bloody hell, that’s disgusting!” he growled, opting instead to twist the demon’s head until he heard a satisfying crack. He dropped the body and watched with satisfaction as it began to dissolve into a foul smelling puddle.

“That’s why he’s here,” Wesley said shortly. “We’ll just be going now. My apologies for the inconvenience.”

“Inconvenience?” She gestured at the disgusting mess on the floor. “Who’s going to clean this up? And where is Sister Teresa?”

“I suspect,” Wesley said as he shoved Spike out the door ahead of him, “that Sister Teresa is busy explaining to St. Peter why her choice of clothing should not impact her well-deserved reward. Assuming that those things do belong to your Sister Teresa and not to the demon who has obviously been impersonating her for some time.” 

Spike nodded to the broken mirror. “If that’s new to the room, then I would say Sister Teresa now sings with the heavenly choir. That ugly bugger probably needed the mirror to double check the glamour every day.”

As Spike and Wesley left the room with their prize, Mother Superior could hear them talking.

“So, the nun was saved by a vampire. Surely a first.”

“Not a first,” Spike responded quietly. “But it’s been a while…”

The End


End file.
